Laurie: I recently had the opportunity to see Nora and Delia Ephron’s Love, Loss, and What I Wore, a delightful play based on the book by Ilene Beckerman about various outfits that marked momentous events in her life. Hysterically funny and poignant, which means 
that chances are it ticked a few memories of my own. I can easily recall all my wedding dresses, each a little more progressively casual as the years and marriages passed by. But I suspect that the real memories live in the clothes that house my own personal secrets. My sister swears that I used to wear knee socks which were a source of mortification for her and ridicule for her “cool” seven-year-younger friends. I can honestly say that I don’t remember knee socks, but I hope it’s true because sister mortification is always gratifying.
elizabeth: I don’t think we would have been friends when we were kids. I think back then clothes made the group that kids hung out with. Knees socks would not have gone with thrift store dresses from the 40s, crocheted mini dresses (that horrified our mothers and pleased us to no end) and ripped jeans with peace signs all over them. I still have a lot of my vintage clothes but not the body that used to prance around in them – usually without a bra. I have a pair of jean shorts that I proudly spent hours putting on silver studs, rainbow patches, flowers and decorative trim and of course, a peace sign that rested on my butt. When I look at them, I remember the hope I felt that we could change the world. Our clothes made political statements. And made some long haired boys a little nervous.
Laurie: I remember in Louisville, KY, a pair of Bass Weejun loafers was the exclusive ticket I needed to get into the Rah-Rah group. And it wasn’t enough that I finally convinced my mother that my life would end without them. Serious work followed. If the toes of my Bass Wejuns didn’t turn up, I may as well be wearing rubber flip flops. To this day, I walk with my toes pointed to the sky. My first leather coat was mustard colored and too cool for school. A huge beach cover-up with a brightly colored parrot marks my year of wild abandon when I gave up a well-paying job and took off for St. Thomas. I still wear it to this day. Other clothing was too painful to keep. All of the clothes I took to India when I went to take care of my terminally-ill husband had to be destroyed when I returned to the States alone. Yes, the Ephrons definitely hit a nerve with clothing memories. I wonder if men entertain memories of their first jock strap?
elizabeth: After my darling friend David died, I went through the stuff he had left in our attic. I found the black cardigan that he wore, and when he slicked his hair back, he took on the look of the designer Halston. Very minimal. Very chic and cool. His grey leather bomber jacket still hangs in the closet upstairs. We walked all over Manhattan in the 1980,s and that jacket kept him warm. I just wish the dress he wore as his “reel mother” Joan Crawford one Halloween was hanging upstairs. I think I could fit into it.
© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™
If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.
Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Branching Out Life Coaching
No related posts.
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
Follow Me!